


Doubt Thou the Stars Are on Fire

by Geritashipper123



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Angst, Blanket Permission, Fluff, M/M, Playing it hard and fast with the medical knowledge, Theater AU, dorks falling in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-28 10:11:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10829154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geritashipper123/pseuds/Geritashipper123
Summary: In which...Jim is a theater nutSpock is a theater criticBones is still a doctorI-Chaya is a service dogAnd somehow everyone falls in love





	Doubt Thou the Stars Are on Fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ThereBeWhalesHere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThereBeWhalesHere/gifts).



> Lissy gave me another idea... blame her.
> 
> I did SO much Shakespeare research for this story. You don't understand. I also did way too much medical research, I scared my friend. This is the result.
> 
> Dedicated to Will-I-Was Shook-spear (William Shakespeare) because DAAAAAYUM.  
> (And I guess Lissy too)

The first time he heard the name, it was opening night of his very first performance with Enterprise Shakespeare Company.

“Seriously though,” Hikaru was grumbling as the finishing touches of his makeup were put on by Janice. “Why does he have to come on _opening_ night? Especially with so many new faces.”

“I know,” Janice sighed “He’s gonna eat them alive-”

Realizing belatedly that when they said new faces they were talking about _him,_ Jim glanced up from his books and frowned. “Excuse me- who… are you two talking about?”

Hikaru looked over, and Janice smacked his arm “you don’t move. Sorry Jim, forgot you were a freshie. Spock Novak-Grayson is coming tonight.” At Jim’s questioning stare, she smiled gently “He’s this theater critic who’s known for ripping plays to shreds. He’s immensely tough, and no one really knows anything about him other than that.” She sighed “I’m glad _I’m_ not going out there tonight.”

Hikaru grumbled something that Jim didn’t catch, and Jim turned back to his lines.

Spock, huh? He’d have to research him.

 

* * *

 

Spock Novak-Grayson, as it turned out, was just what Janice said he was. Mysterious, well-known, respected, feared. His blog _Vulcan_ was considered the gospel of theater. If you got a good review out of him, you were going to win a tony.

What really god Jim was _how_ he wrote these things. The language he used in his summaries made Jim feel like he was in the theater watching them. A talented wordsmith, no doubt. But _scathing._ He didn’t like _anyone,_ christ.

Unsurprisingly, nerves started eating away at Jim’s gut. He was young, inexperienced- he had passion, everyone kept saying, and with time would be an award winner. But he didn’t feel like they were _right._ He sat in his apartment, chewing his fingers and refreshing Spock’s blog page every five minutes. Bones thought he’d gone around the bend.

So when Spock posted his review of their production of “Much Ado About Nothing”, Jim was probably the first one to read it.

Spock started with a summary of the plot and their interpretation. He prefaced his analysis by noting that _“In the past the ESC has proven quite adept at performing Shakespeare and various other works both classic and otherwise. Some may even consider them one of California’s and maybe even America’s premiere theater companies. When they announced that several of their longtime actors would be leaving the company to move on to other things or retirement, it took many fans by surprise.”_ he then continued to review their performance and-

_“In the comedic relief role of Benedick, young new performer James Kirk manages to keep the line between too much comedy and just enough comedy quite balanced, which could be considered a bad thing considering that “Much Ado About Nothing” is considered a comedy. Nonetheless, his performance was appropriate and adequate for someone of his inexperience. One of the other main males Claudio, played by Hikaru Sulu...”_

Jim stared at the line. Read it over and over again. Two lines. Appropriate and Adequate.

Compared to other things Spock had said, that was glowing praise.

 

* * *

 

Hikaru called him later that day, screeching about the article. Jim let him rant, putting him on speakerphone and quietly doing bills.

 _“And then there's you!”_ Hikaru finally said _“You- Adequate and Appropriate Jim! Please tell me you realize how good that is from Spock Novak-Freaking-Grayson! Nyota called me just to scream about it earlier!”_

“Funny, he doesn’t use freaking as one of his last names on the blog.” Jim replied drily.

_“You can’t see this, but I’m flipping you off right now.”_

“Yes I’m aware- you're the seventh person to point it out to me.”

_“Seriously?”_

“Bones, Janice, Christine, Nyota, Scotty, now you. Also I just recieved an email from my mom- I didn’t even know she read _Vulcan.”_

_“Expect one from Pavel. He was freaking out. This is seriously great you know.”_

“So everyone says.” Jim sighs, then grins “Does this mean I have job security?”

_“Watch it freshie. I can get King Komack to fire you.”_

Jim laughs, and decides that he can deal with adequate and appropriate.

 

* * *

 

The problem is, he _keeps_ being referred to as appropriate and adequate. He supposes it wouldn’t be a bad thing, it's better than being called awful the way some of Spock’s more negative reviews make actors sound. But for his next _three productions_ there it is- _Kirk is appropriate and adequate._ It wouldn’t be so much of an issue if he didn’t know for a _fact_ that Spock had an incredibly large vocabulary, as indicated by his other reviews. The man successfully used _bilious_ in a sentence once to describe a man's apparently distasteful performance as Max in “The Sound of Music.”

Adequate and Appropriate. _Ugh._

Whatever, Jim decided. He’d just have to prove him wrong. He’d just have to do something that would really really shock him.

So it’s fitting that he’s given the title role in ESC’s production of _Hamlet._

It’s just what he needs, and he attacks the role with intensity. His excitement infects people throughout the company.

Opening night comes; Spock Novak-Grayson takes his usual seat when they get to the theater he comes to.

Jim swears to god he locks eyes with him as he says some of Hamlet’s most famous lines.

 

* * *

 

The article is already up when Jim wakes the next morning, and what's more, he’s received over 50 calls, texts, and emails, from various people screeching at him to read the article.

He opens his laptop- he bookmarked Vulcan after that first day. He reads the article.

Then he reads it again.

The synopsis of Hamlet is briefer than usual. And then there's the analysis.

_“ESC has, without a doubt, done something rather fascinating. Their production of Shakespeare's “Hamlet” stands out amongst others… but perhaps the front runner of the whole show was young new actor, James Kirk. His performance as the titular Hamlet is one of the better in recent memory. Something was most assuredly different about the way he approached this character in comparison to his previous, albeit more minor roles during his as of yet short tenure with the ESC. As one watched his monologues, you felt as though he was truly suffering. It was as if, as he said “Alas, poor yorick” he was truly thinking of someone he knew.”_

Jim stared, then flopped back on the bed, put a pillow on his face and promptly screamed like a little girl.

 _The best in recent memory._ Oh dear _god._

 

* * *

 

Maybe it was coincidence. Maybe it was some other force.

Three days after Spock’s rave review of Jim’s performance, Bones was working night shift at the hospital and he had to go out and buy himself dinner. The supermarket a few blocks away was this trendily little open air place, lots of fresh produce. Good cuts of meat. Jim could walk there. It was late April, unusually cool for San Francisco. He pulled his jacket tighter around him, clutching his canvas bag over his shoulder.

The butcher handed him his meat, and Jim made sure to leave a tip in his jar. He went over to the produce section, humming some song as he did. Some steak and roasted squash sounded perfect-

And then he ran into someone.

The man’s produce spilled all over the ground, and Jim automatically crouched to help him.

“I'm sorry, I wasn’t…” he trailed off, staring. The man had dark hair, brown eyes. He sat up slowly, gathering his food.

“I apologize as well.” He said, voice quiet but deep. Jim stared at him a moment longer.

“Your Spock Novak-Grayson.” He whispered in amazement, and the man- Spock- nodded once without looking, picking up his bag and placing his groceries in it. Then he looked up and blinked. “James Kirk. ESC actor.”

“Hamlet.” Jim said, grinning, and Spock tilted his head. “I see you read my work.”

“You're very talented. Thanks for the review.”

“May I have my turnips?”

“Oh yeah, here.”

“Thank you.”

“Sorry I ran into you.” Jim said, rising and brushing off his jeans.

“It is not an issue, I ran into you.” Spock was still on the ground. He rested his bag on the ground, then looked around. “Would you hand me my cane?”

Jim looked to his left and saw a black cane lying on the ground, he crouched to hand it to him, and Spock put most of his weight on it to stand up. Jim awkwardly held out a hand, offering help. Spock didn’t take it, standing a bit shakily. He slung his bag over his shoulder, then looked at Jim.  “I apologize for running in to you.”

“I ran into _you_ , Spock. It's fine.” Jim waved him off “here, let me pay for new vegetables, yours are all bruised-”

“It is of no consequence-”

“I _insist.”_ Jim interrupted firmly. Spock looked at him for a moment, then sighed. “Very well.” Jim headed over to the turnips, glancing over his shoulder to see Spock following him. Jim hadn’t known he used a cane, but he managed to keep pace with Jim quite well. It didn’t take long to replace all of Spock’s groceries and collect the rest of Jim’s. They headed to check out, having exchanged almost no words.

They left at the same moment, and Jim went to say goodbye when he realized that Spock had made to go the same way as him.

“Where do you live anyway?” Jim asked.

“Not far.” Spock replied “I believe we are-”

He was interrupted by a drop of rain on his nose, and they both looked up. “Oh man, where did _this_ come from?” Jim whined, curling over his grocery bag and wishing he at least had a hood. But the rain didn’t hit him. He looked up.

Spock was holding a large umbrella over him, raising a brow. “We are heading in the same direction. Would it not be logical to share?”

Jim blinked, then grinned. “I can’t ask you to-”

“I insist.” Spock replied, echoing Jim’s words from earlier. Jim blinked, then smiled a bit. “Thanks.”

They started walking, and Jim glanced at Spock. “So… you really like theater a lot, huh. Shakespeare?”

“He is a favorite, yes.” Spock replied. “My mother would read his works to me when I-” he caught himself “When I was a child.” He finished after a moment, and Jim had a feeling there was more to that story. “I have enjoyed theater my whole life.”

“I grew up reading classic literature.” Jim told him. “That transitioned into theater when I was like, six. Played a lamb in a local production of the christmas story.”

“I assume you are referring to the birth of the biblical figure and _not_ the classic christmas movie about a young boy who wants a gun, correct?” Spock asked, and Jim laughed.

“Yeah, I mean the Jesus one.” He told him with a smile. “The local church was pretty nice to us Jewish kids.”

Spock glanced at him “You are Jewish?” He asked, and Jim nodded. Spock nodded once “I am as well. Well, my mother is. My father is an atheist.”

“Heathen.” Jim teased, and Spock huffed through his nose. “That is not nearly as amusing as you think.”

“Sorry.” Jim said, smiling gently. The corners of Spock’s mouth twitched a little, and Jim had to admit that between the umbrella, the long pea coat, and the cane, he looked very regal.

And then the umbrella was ripped from his hand by the wind. In an instant they both were soaked.

“Oh _no-!”_ Jim half squealed and grabbed Spock’s arm. “Come on! My apartment isn’t far!”

Spock more stumbled than ran, but by the time they ducked into the lobby of Jim’s apartment building, they were both soaking wet. Jim was laughing, clutching his grocery bag to his chest. Spock stared at him for a moment, his lips twitching. “I apologize for losing my grip on the umbrella.”

“‘S fine,” Jim shrugged through his giggles “Sorry I pulled you.”

“You do not happen to have another umbrella?” Spock asked, and Jim sobered, shaking his head. “I think my roommate took it to work with him. Sorry.”

“Ah.” Spock replied “I see.” he looked back out the door, at the pouring rain.

Jim stared at him for a moment, then grabbed his wrist.

“Would you like to stay for dinner?” He asked, smiling warmly at him. Spock flushed in his cheeks and the tips of his ears. And then he nodded.

That night, Jim learned that Spock was a vegetarian, that he couldn’t drink alcohol, his phone number started with 610, and he was a _really_ good kisser.

 

* * *

 

So he was probably committing some sort of sin against actors, dating the enemy and all that. But if he could say anything about Spock, it was that he was discreet. Jim hadn’t even told Bones, and Bones _lived_ with him. Spock hadn’t told anyone either. But they still met, had dinner, talked.

Three months, and, well,

Mutual respect had turned to something a lot more, still mutual though. Seriously, the man even played _chess._ He was _perfect,_ come on.

But something… _something_ was odd.

Jim sighed, staring down at his phone. He was having a debate over the skill of Wiesel, because _of course_ Spock would like that pretentious- _no Spock,_ Jim would not feel guilty over calling a holocaust survivor pretentious, he _was._ Shut up.

It was really _really_ hard to think negative things about dating Spock, because he was so _perfect._ But-

 _‘Since you said you’re not feeling good, we should have dinner at your place’_ Jim texted, deciding this was the best way to go about it.

Spock was a quick typer, and he usually had his phone by his side. So when he didn’t instantly respond, Jim felt something pool in his gut. In fact, he didn’t respond for an hour. Jim went and rehearsed a whole 4 scenes for _Taming the Shrew_ (their next play) before Spock finally replied. And it was utterly unexciting- _‘Fine’_

Jim stared at his phone. That large vocab from his blog had run over into their conversations, and for fucks sake _Spock never said fine._

_‘Did I do something?’_

_‘No. Why do you ask?’_

_‘You’re upset, Spock.’ ‘Dont lie.’_

_‘I am not lying I merely…’_

_‘Spock?’_

_‘It will be easier to explain when you get here. I cannot come and pick you up today, will you be able to get here on your own?’_

_‘I do have a car and a license you know.’_

_‘Yes, and how you acquired these things is still beyond me’_

_‘Im just gonna pretend like you didn’t insult my driving, say that Wiesel is an ahole and go do my work, kay?’_

_‘As you wish, Jim.’_

 

* * *

 

Three months and he hadn’t been to Spock’s home before. It _felt_ like the proper next step, something that would cool Jim’s nerves. Well, that and…

Okay so this was the longest relationship he’d ever been in without sex. Usually, he was most certainly having sex within the first month. But Spock was, like in so many things, different. Cautious. Jim had never brought it up, because the moment his hands brushed the hem of his shirt when they kissed, Spock would stop him. Jim hadn’t pressed, because if Spock didn’t want to then they _wouldn’t._ End of story.

Still, it was strange, because Spock was always receptive, and patient, and… ugh.

Jim ran a hand through his hair, glancing in his rearview mirror at the guy riding his tail. He grumbled, honked once. _Damn San Francisco, and it’s traffic too._

He got to the address soon- it was near a park, a large red-brick brownstone style. He saw Spock’s Prius parked out front, and pulled in behind it. He got out of the car and grabbed his phone and the groceries. He walked up the steps, then knocked.

He heard barking, loud barking. Then he thought he heard Spock and then the door opened. The barking got louder, and Jim looked at Spock’s feet to see a large brown great dane trying to run at him. Spock had the dog’s collar clenched in one hand, and the other was gripping his cane. “I-Chaya, _sit!”_ he snapped, and his tone must have worked because the dog put it’s butt on the ground.

Jim laughed a little, then smiled up at Spock. “Hey.” he greeted, and Spock nodded once, stepping aside to let him in. Jim closed the door, set down the bags. “Do I get introduced now?”

Spock nodded, and Jim crouched to scratch the large dog behind the ears. “This is I-Chaya. She is a service dog.”

“Service dog?” Jim asked, glancing up. Spock nodded. “She goes to schools with me when I do speaking engagements. In addition, she can smell if my blood sugar levels are off.” Jim nodded once. Spock had told him he was diabetic.

“Speaking engagements?” He asked, and Spock nodded a little. “I was in the military. I received high honors for saving members of my squad and…” He faltered, then sighed and looked away. “Jim, I… Have you wondered why I use a cane?”

“You got captured.” Jim guessed, and Spock nodded once, looking away. “I spent 7 weeks in enemy territory, then three months in a military hospital in Iraq. They sent me home after that.”

“Why didn’t you-”

“I am telling you now,” Spock answered before Jim could even question “Because I trust you not to…” he looked away. “There is… scarring. And… I have not stayed the night at your place because-” Spock’s voice cut off and he forced himself to look Jim in the eye. He was _terrified_ Jim realized. So he did the logical thing.

He dropped the groceries, wrapped Spock in a hug, and said “Let’s have dinner.”

 

* * *

 

That night and over the course of several nights after, Jim learns that Spock is a _really really_ good kisser, snores softly, and that all the scars just make him more beautiful.

Jim gets his own little section of Spock’s closet, and Bones is starting to get suspicious.

 

* * *

 

 _The Taming of the Shrew_ is a comedy, and just like always, when they perform at the theater Spock attends, Spock sits in his usual seat. Jim plays Petruchio and Nyota plays Kate and King Komack (head of the ESC) comes out of his office to play Baptista. Apparently, an old actor for the ESC, Christopher Pike, is in the audience tonight.

Jim is confident.

The play is a mess.

They know that it was a shit storm, they all know it. Pike comes backstage afterwards and comments on it to Komack, saying how _it wasn’t even hilariously bad, it was just bad._

Spock posts his review the next day- he rips all of them to shreds.

_“The disappointment only got worse as one contemplates the actors. James kirk, in the lead role as Petruchio, made every mistake short of forgetting his lines. The blocking was off, the usual passion Kirk puts into his characters was missing. The timing of the jokes was all wrong, and the energy in the theater- luck was not on their sides, and the skill usually exhibited by the actors of the ESC was unaccounted for. One might even say Kirk’s performance, in particular, was deplorable. Whatever has distracted Kirk from his work must be resolved, forthwith.”_

Jim reads that last line several times. Then he sighs and goes out. He buys a bottle of wine and goes to Spock’s house. He knocks until he opens the door, blinking. “Jim?”

“You know, if you want to stop distracting me, you really have to stop being so beautiful. Let me in.” 

Spock steps to the side, letting him in. Jim puts the wine on the counter, going for a glass and patting I-Chaya on the way. “I know you can’t process alcohol, but I need a drink.”

Spock comes in and sits at the breakfast bar. “I- you are not mad?”

“For doing your job? Nope. I deserved deplorable.”

“I would hardly say-”

 _“Spock.”_ Jim turned to smile at him “Speak your mind. I’m a big boy.”

“... you missed the timing on the jokes Jim.”

“I did indeed. Wanna fuck in your office?”

 

* * *

 

San Francisco is known for earthquakes, not bad ones but, earthquakes.

Jim wakes to one the next day, slides under the doorway between Spock’s bathroom and bedroom, and sighs. Some stuff falls, a bowl breaks in the kitchen, but everything in Spock’s house is okay.

Well, except Spock.

Jim hasn’t been in his study before, but he finds Spock under the desk clutching I-Chaya. He’s shaking, and Jim recognizes a panic attack when he sees one.

“Spock- _Spock._ You’re okay. Breathe.”

“No more no more _no more-”_

“Easy. Easy. It’s over. It was just a quake-”

_“Bombs no more no more It hurts-”_

“Breathe. It’s okay.” Jim runs his hands down Spock’s back, and eventually, Spock whispers “Jim?”

“Yeah?”

“Stay here today.”

“Whatever you need.”

He calls in sick to rehearsals.

 

* * *

 

When he goes in the day after that, Hikaru is angry at Spock.

“Deplorable? Inadequate? For fucks sake he basically invalidated us!” He rants, and Nyota grumbles something about “calling me too raunchy why I ought to-”

Jim hums as he watches his friends rant. Then carefully suggests that they should practice so they’re next performance is better.

“Why aren’t you pissed off?” Pavel asks, and Jim shrugs.

“My timing was off on the jokes.”

 

* * *

 

That night, Bones corners him.

“Nyota called.” He tells him “Says you were acting weird. And you didn’t come home yesterday.”

“I went out.” Jim says, literally in a corner with Bones standing over him.

“Why aren’t you pissed about that article?”

“Spock’s right-”

“He called you _deplorable.”_

“And it wasn’t a good performance.” Jim insisted.

Bones stared at him, eyes accusatory.

“Who the hell have you been sleeping with? Because they’re screwing with your brain Jim.”

Jim grits his teeth and feels an irrational surge of anger. “What does it matter? I’m man enough to admit when I messed up and I messed up. End of story.”

“Jim, _who are you sleeping with?”_

“Why does it-”

“I’m your _best friend._ I’ve known you since _high school-”_ The blue eyes are piercing. “Who are you screwing?”

“I am not _screwing_ anyone!” Jim snaps “I’m _dating_ him!”

Silence falls. Bones blinks. Jim blinks.

“Dating?”

_“Yeah.”_

“Like out to dinner, lasagne and steak-”

“He’s a vegetarian and can’t consume alcohol.”

“... wow.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s different then.”

“Yeah.”

Bones blinks, then smiles “When’s the wedding?”

 

* * *

 

Jim invites Spock over for dinner that night and makes it very clear that Bones is gonna be there _and if you want to run I won’t blame you he’s scary._

Spock shows up anyway.

Bones takes one look at him, then says “Aren’t you that military vet I prescribe Ativan to?”

Spock blinks. “Indeed. Greetings, Doctor McCoy.”

Jim starts laughing.

The night ends with Spock and Bones debating some medical theory that Jim doesn’t know, and he might as well be watching a debate in another language. He feels like flying, he’s so happy.

After that, dinner with all three of them becomes a tradition, and Spock and Bones become the strangest sort of friends

 

* * *

 

Months later, Spock presents Jim with a list of all the logical reasons for Jim to receive a key to his house. Jim replies by kissing the logic right out of him.

He’s moved in in a week, between Spock and Bones they manage to get him out of his lease and their mutual friend Scotty takes over Jim’s rent and Jim’s room.

(Jim suspects that Scotty may have a crush on Bones)

He realizes, abruptly, how serious this has become. He _lives_ with Spock. He…

It hits him like a sack of bricks. _Holy shit, he’s fallen in love. With Spock._

And he… He’s strangely okay with that.

How could he not be? Spock’s smart, funny, kind, beautiful. He doesn’t care when Jim stays up late doing lines, and Jim holds him when he has nightmares. I-Chaya loves him, and Spock gets along with Jim’s friends.

So, well,

They’ve been together for about 9 months.

Jim asks Bones to help him go ring shopping.

 

* * *

 

 _Macbeth_ is a dark ass play, but Jim loves it. He follows the tradition of not saying the play name in the theater, and opening night goes so well, Jim thinks he’ll get another _best in recent memory_ out of Spock.

They’re cleaning up.

“There’s still someone in the audience.” Pavel says. “Excuse me, sir! You have to leave!”

Jim looks out.

Spock’s usual seat is filled with a hunched over figure.

Jim drops the fake bottle of poison in his hand. The plastic doesn’t shatter. Jim bolts off the stage. He hears people calling his name, following him. He doesn’t care.

Spock always sits in the first seat of the 17th row, the NCC section. Jim sinks to his knees in the aisle and rests a hand on Spock’s cheek.

He’s _burning._

“Jim.” Spock croaks. “I cannot stand.”

“Okay.” Jim breathes. “Okay. okay. I’m gonna take care of you, you’re gonna be okay. Hikaru-” He looks up. Hikaru is standing over them, mouth hanging open. “Hikaru, you need to call the hospital, call Bones- _hurry.”_

“Is that-”

 _“Yes_ and he’s sick. _Hurry.”_

Hikaru left, and Jim sat up to press his forehead to Spock’s.

“Something is- Something is _wrong_ Jim.”

“I know, I know. Just… Just hold on.”

“I cannot breathe.”

“Sh. I have you. You’re gonna be okay.”

“Jim-” Spock blinked rapidly, and were those _tears?_ “Jim I am scared.”

“Don’t be, you’re going to be fine. You’re going to be perfect you _are_ perfect.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too. So much I can’t imagine losing you now. You’re gonna be okay.”

Spock shifted, and yelped in pain. He was trembling now. “Something is wrong.” He kept repeating “Something is _wrong-”_

The ambulance came, and Jim was allowed to ride with him. Spock was panicking, and all Jim could do was clutch at his hand. “You’re okay. You’re okay, Spock,” he whispered. “You’re gonna be okay.”

Doctors took him away for tests, and Bones gave them the results.

The screws in Spock’s back had shifted.

They were infected.

“We have to go in,” Bones said “It’s risky,” he said. “But if we don’t do it… you’re gonna lose your legs.” Then he left, saying he would give Spock time.

“Spock-” Jim swallowed thickly, and Spock stared up at him.

“I cannot spend the rest of my life in a chair, Jim. I cannot.”

“I love you,” Jim whispered. “God I love you.”

“And I you,” Spock swallowed “But I cannot-”

“Okay.” Jim pressed his forehead to Spock’s. “Okay. I love you.”

And then he was gone.

 

* * *

 

Jim woke up alone, stared at the pillow next to him, then sighed. He got out of the too-big bed and padded to the kitchen to make himself breakfast. He fed I-Chaya, crouching to scratch her. “I know you miss him, girl. I do too.” He said, sighing.

He went back upstairs and showered and brushed his teeth. He combed his hair, then dressed in the black suit he had bought just for today, just for Spock. He went downstairs, straightened his tie. He swallowed and grabbed his phone- so many texts, asking if he was okay. He ignored them all and glanced at I-Chaya. He sighed.

“Come on. In the car. Spock would want you there.”

They drove to the synagogue, I-Chaya silent in the backseat. Bones met him once he parked. Hugged him tightly.

“I’m not ready for this,” Jim mumbled. “I’m gonna break down when I see him.”

“That’s okay, healthy even.” Bones replied, rubbing his back.

“I miss him Bones.” Jim whispered, and this time Bones rolled his eyes.

“It’s only been a day, Jim. You’ll see him in a few minutes.” Jim smiled a little, then he nodded and stood up. “Come on, let’s do this.”

They went inside, Bones first with I-Chaya. Jim breathed, then went in.

He knew everyone was there, he knew the piano was playing. But all he could focus on was Spock, beautiful at the end of the aisle. His suit was black, but a different Style than Jim’s. His eyes were shining as he watched Jim approach.

They held hands and nodded to their rabbi.

The ceremony went quickly. Soon Jim was saying “I, James Kirk, Do take you Spock Novak-Grayson to be my lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, for as long as we both shall live.”

“I do.”

They were proclaimed husbands.

They kissed, and all the world was a spotlight focused on the both of them.

 

* * *

 

_"Doubt thou the stars are on fire;_

_Doubt that the sun doth move;_

_Doubt truth to be a liar;_

_But never doubt I love."_

_\- William Shakespeare_

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please come visit me on Tumblr www.flamingbluepanda.tumblr.com
> 
> See ya!


End file.
